


My Demons Are the Real Ones

by Cydersyrup



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Violence, Crack, Dark Crack, Fighting Zombies, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Mild Gore, can zombie fighting be considered a sport?, doyoung is pretty much a sports broadcaster, how to be an asshole 101, taeyong is so done with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26421148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cydersyrup/pseuds/Cydersyrup
Summary: “It’s a beautiful day out there, folks!” Doyoung announces like he’s commentating on a sports tournament. “Orange skies as a result of capitalist-driven oil companies and wildfires, air pollution here is at an all-time high, yes siree—and oh, looks like our Taeyong has just arrived on the playing field! Is that a steel bat I see in his hand? Yes, it is! And what’s that covering it? Blood? Yes, it’s blood! The first blood has been shed! Now, ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin!”Everyone has a breaking point, and Taeyong reaches his with a baseball bat, a heart filled with pure rage, and endless commentary from his good-for-nothing best friend.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	My Demons Are the Real Ones

**Author's Note:**

> The sky was ORANGE for 2 days and I had a good long think about how the world might possibly end (or not).  
> Thank you to Silvi, who fueled this madness.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Taeyong is a good person.

Sure, he might dress a little outlandishly at times and has a penchant for dying his hair every known color in existence, but he’s nice. And that’s more than what he could say for Yuta, who dresses even MORE outlandishly and whose hair is just as fried as Taeyong’s, but who won’t hesitate to start a fight or make someone cry just ‘cause he feels like it.

Sometimes Taeyong wonders why he’s friends with the asshole.

Then he remembers— _all_ of his friends are assholes. And each in their own unique way.

Johnny finds people getting injured hilarious and is always goading them into stupid stunts that he knows will end badly. Taeyong’s been on the receiving end of his shenanigans one too many times already. The scars on his body will attest to that.

Jaehyun pretends to listen to people when they talk to him, then will say “Sorry, can you repeat that?” about a million times until the other party gets tired of him and shuts up. Though that’s one hell of a way to get people to stop bugging him, so Taeyong has to give Jaehyun some credit there.

Ten knows like six languages and will eavesdrop on any conversation and butt in with his own remarks just to make people uncomfortable. He also smack-talks a lot of people behind their backs, and nobody can really tell what he’s saying because Ten jumps languages like he jumps double-dutch. 

Taeil bakes cookies, and it should seem pretty harmless and actually kind of nice, except for the fact that there’s _no sugar_ in the damn things. Not even in the chocolate chips, which is 100% cocoa and tastes like fancy dirt. Taeyong genuinely pities anyone who doesn’t know this fact already, because they’ll actually get tricked into thinking Moon Taeil is an angel.

Jungwoo always asks for favors, and it could be as mundane as borrowing a pencil or as outrageous as sucking him off below the desks in the middle of class. And it’s hard to refuse him, because he’s got the puppy-dog look down pat and a whole album of blackmail-worthy material on his phone that Taeyong knows for a fact is backed up on at least two other devices.

Mark might be the most decent one out of the bunch, though that’s not setting the bar real high considering he likes to hide people’s keys and watch them struggle to find it, and sets his morning alarm to the creepiest evil laughs the internet can provide. It’s surprisingly effective, especially for the poor bastard who has to share a room with him.

And then there’s Doyoung.

Hoo boy…

_Doyoung._

Now that’s a real piece of work if Taeyong’s ever seen one. They’ve been friends since primary school, and ever since they were kids, Doyoung’s always been a special kind of asshole.

In first grade, he cut a classmate with a sharp rock and then weaseled his way out of trouble by pretending that he couldn’t understand English when he was called to the principal’s office. Which was actually a fair defense, considering Doyoung wasn’t that fluent at the time. 

Then in sixth grade, he locked his cousin outside his house without a coat in the middle of December because he didn’t like her. He got punished for that, but Doyoung was grinning like a maniac for a whole week afterwards.

And most recently, right before they entered college, Doyoung got pissed off at one of his neighbors and set their lawn on fire with nothing more than a bit of alcohol and a magnifying glass.

If Taeyong is being just a little more callous with his opinions, he’d say his best friend is a psychopath.

But that might not be actually true, because as of today, Doyoung still hasn’t killed anyone.

Alive, that is.

Best part about it—he doesn’t even need a reason to kill. If Doyoung’s in the mood, he’ll find the nearest undead body and cut it into pieces.

As for Taeyong...

Maybe it’s the deadly respiratory disease going around that’s turning people into mindless shells of pure aggression. Maybe it’s because he was SO CLOSE to finally getting his degree then his school kicked him out and made all classes go online because students were starting to murder each other on campus. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been cooped inside for the last year and cabin fever has officially reached a boiling point. 

And maybe it’s because he saw his little brother get bitten by one of those crazy angry corpses, and now Donghyuck’s tied up with duct tape, rope, and barbed wire in their living room to prevent him from going absolutely feral on some unsuspecting bystander. His little brother's skin has become ashen, eyes wide and filled with an animosity Taeyong has slowly learned to accept as a part of what Donghyuck is now. He's struggling quite violently, though his actions are nothing more than slight jerks due to how tightly bound he is. Taeyong doesn't have an awful lot of handy skills, but knowing how to tie a damn good deadknot is something he'll always be proud of. 

Because as much as he loves Donghyuck, having one half-zombie in the family is enough.

It’s a Friday afternoon when the world is coming to an end, and Taeyong is PISSED. And on this day, he doesn’t feel like a good person. 

He doesn’t _want_ to be a good person.

_Knock. Knock._

Taeyong's head whips over towards the source of the sound, and he relaxes once a familiar figure comes into view, waving from the balcony.

“Hey, bitch.” Doyoung slides open the balcony door and steps into Taeyong’s apartment, decked out in all black, an N95 covering half his face, and an axe slung over his shoulder. “You know the drill. Johnny and the boys are goin’ hunting today. Wanna join?”

Taeyong shoots Donghyuck’s writhing body with a long stare and turns back to Doyoung. “Where we headed?”

“There’s a gathering of the deadfucks out by the garden park. We’re headed there in ten.” Doyoung looks past Taeyong at the body squirming and groaning on the floor. “How’s little Hyuckie?”

“Subdued. He’ll mellow out by the time it’s dark.”

“Aren’t you lucky they managed to neutralize it before the virus got through to Hyuck’s brain.” Doyoung snickers, shaking his head with pity. “Though I guess there wasn’t much there to begin with.”

"Doyoung—"

Doyoung holds up his hands defensively. "Jokes, jokes. You get what I mean when I say tha—"

“I’ll head out later and meet you there,” Taeyong cuts in, turning away from Doyoung and heading to his closet. “You go first.” 

Doyoung shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He pulls open the balcony door again and steps out. “Bye, Yongie.”

“You do know we have a front door," Taeyong calls from the hallway.

“Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?” Doyoung slides the door shut and hauls himself over the balcony. “See ya in ten! Be there or be square! And yes, Johnny paid me to say that!”

Taeyong would’ve said something about them being on the third floor, but another aspect of Doyoung’s assholery is that he really doesn’t give a fuck about his own life.

And Taeyong maybe hates him a little for it.

* * *

Taeyong arrives at the park right on time, only to see a horde of rampaging humanoids and the faint shadows of his friends, armed to the T and having a grand old time murdering some ex-humans.

And it’s twisted, he knows. Instead of staying indoors, where it’s safe from the zombies and risk of infection, he and his friends make it a hobby to go out every other week for a killing spree of the neighborhood’s infected. But it’s a perfectly good outlet, and Taeyong is just bitter enough to feel entitled to unload his rage on the creatures that caused his brother’s demise.

Doyoung stands just off the side of the park’s main field, limbs still intact and axe slung over his shoulder like always. There's not a single drop of blood on him, or even if there is, it's too hard to tell with his all-black getup. His eyes meets Taeyong’s from across the park, lips immediately breaking out into a Cheshire grin, and Taeyong just knows he’s in for it.

“Oh, no.”

“It’s a beautiful day out there, folks!” Doyoung announces like he’s commentating on a sports tournament. “Orange skies as a result of capitalist-driven oil companies and wildfires, air pollution here is at an all-time high, yes siree—and oh, looks like our Taeyong has just arrived on the playing field! Is that a steel bat I see in his hand? Yes, it is! And what’s that covering it? Blood? Yes, it’s blood! The first blood has been shed! Now, ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin!”

Taeyong pointedly ignores Doyoung’s ramblings and charges the nearest zombie in the park, swinging his bat straight into its contorted face.

“And down goes deadfuck number 12! Oh, it’s a glorious scene, everyone! Taeyong is on a spree, oh there he goes—yes! Another kill! Gorgeous!”

Johnny’s loud laughter rings in the distance amidst the sound of gunfire, and Taeyong hurriedly makes his way to his next target.

“He’s on the move, Taeyong is on the move, and just look at that beautiful footwork! Nimble, agile little demon, he is! And that swing—oh mama, that swing! Blood is spilt! It’s raining red over our heads!”

One zombie almost manages to bite him, but Taeyong kicks it back and pummels the shit out of its face with all the pent-up rage he has, until its head is nothing more than a red, gooey mass.

“That speed, that strength, that violence! Oh, the carnage is beautiful, people! It’s absolutely beautiful! Look at that brain matter! I’ve never seen a head so artfully bashed in before!”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Taeyong grits out as he jabs another zombie in the gut with the end of his bat before delivering a crushing blow on the top of its skull. “I’m trying to vent!”

“And you’re doing great, sweetie!” Doyoung calls. “Now, back to our segment! Taeyong’s not letting up! He’s ruthless, I tell you! Two down! Three! Four! Oh, the bloodbath is inevitable, ladies and gents! Someone might just slip and die here!”

“With all due respect, I hope it’s you.”

“A scathing insult thrown at my expense! What sharpness! What wit! Truly the best hunter of our generation, driven by grief and years of repressed sexual frustration—”

“Doyoung!”

“But anywho, at the end of the day, it’s either you or them, so let’s just start killing!” Doyoung yells, swinging his axe right through the neck of an approaching zombie. “Bam, bam, motherfucker! Let the bodies hit the floor!”

Taeyong rolls his eyes as he bashes in the head of a demented teenager coming at him, ignoring the blood that spatters his mask. “You’re a sick fuck, Doyoung.”

“Another jab! Just as strong as his swings to the deadfucks’ faces! Speaking of which, there’s another beautiful one, oh yes! What a perfect arch! My calculus professor would be proud of that parabola—and another one bites the dust!”

Taeyong ignores the rest of Doyoung’s mindless babbling and focuses solely on getting rid of as many zombies in the area as possible. It’s not easy bashing their heads in with a bat, and he’s beginning to feel tired. Curse stupid Johnny and Jaehyun for cheating at the kill counts with their big fancy guns. Or Yuta slicing clean through two to three zombies at a time with his katana—like where the fuck did he even _get_ that thing?

Taeyong might be running on anger and vengeance alone, but at least he’s killing fair.

Just another reason to show how his friends are the biggest assholes he’s ever met in his life.

“And we’re in the home stretch, now! Almost there, almost there! Just three more zombies to go! Johnny is aiming at the one in the back, and boom, he’s got the fucker! Headshot! Perfectly clean! And oh! Here comes Taeyong with his bat, and my goodness, have you ever seen such graceful dexterity with a blunt weapon before?”

Taeyong crushes the zombie before him and spares it no mercy as he immediately begins to beat the shit out of its head.

“It’s been over ten minutes, everyone, but he’s still going strong! Lee Taeyong, what a beast! This is no human we’re looking at here, no sir! This is a killing machine! Clean, quick, and precise! The zombie is down, I repeat the zombie is down! And Taeyong’s moving on quickly as his time and prey runs out!”

The last zombie in the vicinity would have been Taeyong’s, if not for the fact that Ten comes zooming in out of nowhere and decapitates the walking corpse with a smooth swing of his machete. He skids to a stop a couple meters away from Taeyong and flashes him a toothy grin.

“Sorry, Yongie. I got the last scrap again.”

What. An. Asshole.

“Whatever,” Taeyong huffs, feeling the adrenaline and anger drain from his system as he lowers his bat. “You can have it.”

“Oh, and it was a near miss! Close! So close!” Doyoung hollers. Taeyong resists the urge to punch the other man in the throat. “A valiant effort, but once again, Taeyong falls just one step behind the infamous Vanishing Prowler Ten! A shame, truly a shame.”

“Doyoung,” Taeyong bites out.

“Yes, Yongie?”

“For the love of all things holy, please shut the fuck up.” Taeyong doesn’t wait for the rest of their friends to join them in their little gathering and stalks past Doyoung back towards his apartment. There’s a small commotion behind him, and Taeyong doesn’t even need to look back to know that Doyoung ditched the group to follow him.

Because this is just another reason why Doyoung’s a complete prick.

He can’t even let Taeyong have the best dramatic exit. Not like Taeyong would actually want to look like a dick for doing so, but he just killed a bunch of zombies and he’s still got a hungry brother to feed back home.

“Hey, hey,” Doyoung says as Taeyong picks up the pace of his strides. “No need to be so stiff, Yongie. Johnny was just inviting everyone back to his place for dinner. What’s the rush?”

“What’s the rush?” Taeyong echoes incredulously. “The rush, Doyoung, is that I don’t want to hear any more of your stupid nonsense!”

“Aw come on now, you know I only do it for the fun and games,” Doyoung retorts. “It makes things interesting! Killing zombies doesn’t always have to be all doom and gloom, you know.”

Taeyong heaves a sigh to calm himself. It works. Sort of. “Doyoung, I’m tired.”

“I know, you just offed nearly a dozen undead. I’d be tired too if I were you.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I know that too.”

Taeyong whirls around and glares up at Doyoung. “Doyoung, you—”

Doyoung suddenly leans forward, sealing his lips against Taeyong’s before he can say anything else. The kiss is quick, hard, a little painful through their masks, and Doyoung pulls away almost as quickly as he surged in, leaving a tingling in Taeyong’s lips and heat rushing to his face.

“Y-you—”

“Me nothing, let’s just shut up and go back to your place so we can feed Hyuck. He should be human enough by the time we get back,” Doyoung drawls, juggling his axe to his other shoulder and tucking a hand into his pocket. “You did good today, Yongie. Lighten up.”

“You can’t just do that!”

“Do what?”

Taeyong waves his hands, trying to articulate his scattered thoughts into words. “You can’t just—kiss me every time I want to make a point! Y-you can’t just do that! Not to me!”

“What’s the big deal?” Doyoung asks nonchalantly. “You’re stressed, need some relief, some affection, whatever. I’m stressed, got tired of you talking, and want you to shut up. It works out. We can fuck too, if you like. I’m not against it.”

“You—” Taeyong cuts himself off as Doyoung arches a brow at him. He hates this. Hates moments like this, because like it or not, Taeyong knows Doyoung is right.

Which leads to the biggest reason why Doyoung is the ultimate asshole in Taeyong’s book:

His best friend knows him just a little _too_ well.

**Author's Note:**

> Make zombie fighting a professional sport and Doyoung as its official commentator pls and thank you.
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Cydersyrup)  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/Cydersyrup)


End file.
